Schadenfreude
by reallyhatebananas
Summary: "As one final 'screw you' to Edward Cullen, the funeral was held on Quileute land." AU from the end of Eclipse: Bella chooses Jacob, Edward gets hurt, and it's all downhill from there. Not Jacob/Bella.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Sam wasn't exactly surprised when he heard the door open. It wasn't like he hadn't expected it, wasn't like that wasn't the _reason_ he was in his kitchen before the sun hit its peak, sitting as far from the table as he could manage and just—waiting.

It had been either him or Jacob, and, well, that was an obvious choice. Considering.

"Edward," Sam said portentously, feeling himself still. "Will the rest of the Cullens be joining us?" He immediately cursed himself for talking like they were at some sort of social gathering.

Edward looked unsurprisingly pale, and fragile as if a gust of wind would knock him right off his feet. He was breaking the treaty, what remained of it at least, and Sam's instincts screamed to eradicate the danger to his home. Only the Cullens had never proven themselves any sort of a threat.

And there were other reasons, too. Such as that Sam was fairly certain they owed him this, and Edward wasn't exactly inspiring enmity just then.

It looked like he was burning. Like loss was carving away at his insides, eating him alive, like he was being torn into pieces right then and there. He looked like Sam thought he would have if it had been—and God, it hurt to even think of it—Emily inside of that coffin.

Sam couldn't ask him to leave.

"They aren't, they told me not to come," said Edward, who had seemed completely unaware of the turmoil in Sam's mind. Sam wondered if it even worked anymore, his telepathy. Maybe it was just a maelstrom of white noise, a knot that he could no longer be bothered to unravel. "I just—"

His gaze lit upon the coffin, and his eyes were already black as coal but Sam swore they managed to darken.

"Oh," Edward breathed, and for a moment it looked like his legs would give out. Sam readied himself to step forward, but Edward flinched back as if he'd been hit and Sam let his hands fall, felt so helpless it hurt.

"Did she," Edward said, his tone strangled, and then stopped like the words had lodged in his mouth.

Sam thought, _Emily_, and his voice gentled almost without effort. "Did she what?" he asked softly, noting with some far corner of his brain that he could smell the faintest hint of death—God, she was decomposing already, nature working quickly to reclaim a fucking corpse. And if his human nose could smell it then the scent was magnified a thousandfold to Edward Cullen.

No wonder he looked like he was about to be sick.

Edward didn't answer. "I need to see her," he said instead, pale and washed out as a ghost in the bright kitchen lights, and Sam took a moment to register the words.

Upon which he leapt to his feet.

"No," he said vehemently, the images that Edward could absolutely not be allowed to see swelling like a blister in his mind. Edward looked at him as if he was seeing right through Sam and into his thoughts, and Sam realized exactly what he had done, and how he'd been played.

But it was impossible to be angry with Edward just then. His face was drawn and set, the images clearly already burned into his vampire-perfect memory, a looped tape of nightmares to be played for the rest of time.

Sam grabbed his wrist so hard that he heard the grinding of delicate bones, but Edward didn't wince.

"Hey," Sam said, forcing his voice into neutrality. He had to stay calm: he was the only one who could. "Listen. You didn't—you couldn't possibly have stopped it."

Edward twisted out of Sam's grasp and looked at him with an expression so blank it seemed desperate, somehow, poised on the cusp of some wild emotion. Then their fragile bubble of silence was burst.

Sam cursed silently as the door swung open and Jacob stepped inside, the epitome of wholesome happiness, his hand wrapped tight around Angela's. He was wearing the same expression he always did these days, the one that said he had everything he could possibly want in the world.

He had the worst timing imaginable, and there was no way this was going to end well.

Jacob's gaze caught on Edward in that moment and he froze, Angela wide-eyed and forgotten by his side, because Jacob had always been so easily distracted from the ones he loved. Edward stared at him with that same lost expression, but there was emotion burning white-hot in his eyes. It made him look pale as ice.

Sam wondered distractedly what it was between these two, on Jacob's end at least, that was so unexplainably intense. Distracting him from Angela—it shouldn't have been possible, and yet Edward was managing just fine.

Edward's eyes seemed to blaze impossibly brighter as he spoke, face on the verge of crumpling.

"_You did this_."

"Edward?" Angela whispered, barely audible. She was ignored.

"She trusted you," Edward shouted, and Sam realized distractedly that it was the first time he'd heard the leech raise his voice. "I trusted you to keep her _safe_!"

And he made as if to step forward.

Sam didn't want to, the memory of Edward lying shaking in the snow still at the forefront of his mind, but he lunged forward anyway to slam him back against the wall. Edward didn't resist, didn't even wince: just stayed limp in Sam's grasp like a rag doll.

Sam winced for him and backed away, suddenly tasting blood like he'd been sucker-punched.

"Edward, listen," he said, his voice rasping slightly. "I'm sorry for what happened. We all are."

Edward wasn't listening. He just stared at the ground, that same dead look in his eyes, and two months ago Sam never would have expected that everything would go so _wrong_.

* * *

_Two months earlier._

"I don't believe it," came Seth's voice, and he did sound betrayed.

Bella pulled away like she'd been burned, which maybe she had because Jacob ran hot. She licked her lips unconsciously, still tasting him on her tongue and the roof of her mouth.

The horror came on slowly, a creeping coldness that burned away the heat, and she wondered with a sense of near detachment what she had done.

Bella kept her eyes fixed steadily on the white clean snow beneath her feet, finding comfort in the sheer sameness of it, though just inches from her it had melted to expose bare earth where Jacob stood. The few tumbling snowflakes were already coating the area in a fine gray glaze, covering dirt just a few shades darker than Jacob's skin.

Seth and Edward stood just mere feet from them with identical expressions of disappointment, though Seth's was beginning to fade into annoyance and Edward's to carefully cultivated calm.

Of course it was Seth who had spoken, angry and brash, while Edward just looked sort of lost. Bella kept staring at the ground.

The ring on her finger seemed to gain an extra pound or two as she realized that she could never make things right, but there was something she could do all the same. The facts were simple: Edward would always be there for her, and she wanted to give Jacob a chance.

For no reason perhaps more than that she was tired of hurting him and Edward, at least, he hid his pain so well. Never made her feel guilty over it. And she knew he wouldn't even now, when she hurt him more badly than she ever had before.

"Jacob, Sam said that was a dick move," Seth continued, voice rising steadily, and Bella wondered vaguely why he sounded so hurt. That wasn't fair: she didn't need his unhappiness on her as well. "When you thought of—of faking killing yourself to— Sam said not to! You did it anyway, _why_?"

Bella wasn't looking at him but his voice was young and betrayed by someone he cared about, and guilt cooked her insides like steak. She remembered the grinning, gangly little boy he'd once been and hated herself a bit more for helping show him how bad things could really get.

But then they'd all been kids once, and she had enough to feel guilty about already. Like Edward.

God, _Edward_.

"Well, it worked, didn't it," Jacob was saying, cocky and sure as if he'd never experienced a moment of doubt. "So I guess Sam doesn't know what he's talking about." He slanted a grin over at Edward, and there was absolutely no warmth in his eyes. It wasn't a nice smile. "I did tell you she'd ask me to kiss her, Cullen."

Edward didn't respond, didn't even meet his eyes, just stood there looking fragile and pale as if he wanted to melt into the snow at his back.

"I did," Bella whispered, even as the rest of her screamed for her mouth to snap shut. "I asked him. I'm sorry."

And that wasn't new but her admitting it was, like she was accepting what she'd done and forcing the rest of them to do so as well. Edward flinched back, just a bit, as if she'd stuck him, and the smirk Jacob turned on him made it clear he was taking credit for the blow.

Bella told herself to suck it up and painfully lifted her eyes from the ground.

Seth looked furious, but it was the expression on Edward's face that broke Bella's heart. He was staring at her like he'd never seen her before, like all his darkest nightmares had come true.

"Edward," she whispered, her voice pleading though she wasn't sure why.

Even Jacob, for once, seemed to have grown a shred of decency, and he was staring at the ground. But the rounded curve of his cheek belied his guilt, and if the situations had been reversed—Edward never would have smiled like that. Edward was so good, too good, and Bella did not deserve him.

"What do you want, Bella?" Edward asked, a question with so many layers, and she didn't—she didn't even know what he meant.

Bella needed him, she did, and now she was aching for his pain. But the one thing he had to give he didn't want to, he'd given her a taste and she wanted so much more, and she just couldn't handle it if he wouldn't agree to her change.

"I don't know," she breathed in an agony of indecision, and Edward's face softened a crucial fraction.

"It's okay. You don't have to choose. I'm bowing out."

She'd never heard his voice so vulnerable before. Bella felt like she was falling.

"Edward, what—"

"You seem to be having trouble deciding between us," Edward said, his voice still unguarded, which on top of everything else seemed just—indecently wrong. It was too much.

"Let me make things easier on you," Edward continued, and though the words would probably have been sarcastic on Jacob, Edward just sounded sincere. As if he really wanted things to be easier for her.

Edward dropped his eyes to the ground as he spoke. Bella wanted to push his chin up and make him meet her eyes as he said these things, these stupid, terrible, wonderful things—because he was shouldering the blame, alleviating the guilt as she had almost known he would. She kept her hands firmly at her sides.

"I'm out," Edward was saying. "Go with Jacob. He can give you everything I can't. I mean, we all know that."

Jacob grinned with such inordinate smugness that Bella resisted the urge to slap him.

She put that aside and set her jaw, pulling off the ring without looking at it.

Her hand felt heavier without it on, and she hadn't expected taking off a damn piece of jewelry to hurt so much.

Edward made no move when she held it out, and Bella glanced down at the cold glitter of diamonds against her pale, fragile hand. She felt a sudden wave of terror: the urge to keep this, to _not let it go_.

Stubborn, she held out the ring with an impatient huff.

Edward took it back with an absent air, eyes still fixed on hers, pale face set. Bella treasured the swipe of his slim, cool fingers against her palm, thinking: just one more thing she would never feel again.

"I don't want it. I never did," she whispered, and too late she heard the unnecessary cruelty of those words. "I'm sorry. I do love you."

She winced immediately afterwards, wishing she could take the words back, and sure enough Edward looked away like he'd been slapped.

"Just not enough," Jacob said, a grin threatening to break forth. "Sucks for you, Cullen."

"Oh my God, Jacob, just shut the hell up!" Seth burst out, and Bella's protectiveness was roused.

"Seth, leave him alone," she said furiously. "Jacob's hurting, don't make this worse for him—"

Seth looked about ready to burst. "Worse for _him_?" he shouted with bubbling incredulity, and Bella bit her lip. "What about Edward? What the hell is wrong with you, Bella?"

There was a perfectly horrible silence, during which Bella just didn't know what to say.

"So why are you here, leech?" asked Jacob, who'd been watching the proceedings with a look of incredulous glee. "Wanted to see your girlfriend getting a piece of something that wasn't dead for once?"

Even Bella had to admit that was over the line.

Edward seemed unable to meet his eyes. "The newborns, they're more dangerous than expected," he said to the ground. "They sniffed out your pack—Jasper's plan fell through, and they're all fighting together now. They could probably use some assistance."

"Huh," said Jacob, sounding supremely uninterested.

Edward shook himself very slightly. He seemed to be trying to put up a mask, but it kept slipping off, revealing the crumpled expression beneath.

"Seth," he said stiffly, limbs tense beneath dark designer clothes. "We should. We should go now."

Bella searched her memory, trying and failing to come up with the moment that Seth had phased. Edward looked so human at his side that she feared for him a little.

"Wait!" she said, voice loud in the stillness. Her lungs felt tight as they both turned back to her, the massive wolf whining and nudging at Edward's hand like his instincts weren't screaming at him to bite it off. Seth was weird.

But Edward smiled down at him, a quick, cheerless quirk of the lips, and seemed entirely comfortable and not disposed to move. Edward was weird, too, and maybe that was the only reason this friendship made any sense.

Then Edward looked up expectantly, and Bella remembered she'd told him to stay—just a panicked, instinctive response to the sight of him leaving her. Seth was phased, she thought wildly, which meant the whole pack could see her humiliation now. Voyeurs if they cared enough to bother.

"Bella," Edward said, his voice calm and self-possessed. "If you could make it quick. I have a war to fight."

Bella swayed, and maybe he was leaving her after all. "What? You're fighting? But—you promised—"

And he couldn't break it, not now, not when she was already losing him in so many painful, wrenching ways.

"Things change," Edward said, emotion breaking through his voice for a moment and making it harsh. He seemed to catch himself and sighed, closing his eyes for a brief instant, and then he was her Edward again.

"I'm sorry. I love you," he assured her. "I always will. And I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy with Jacob. I—but I'm going to fight beside my family now. They need me. Jacob will stay with you here, I'm sure."

He cast a glance at Jacob, and Bella wondered that there was no resentment or anger in Edward's gaze. Just a quiet acceptance, and the ever-present kindness in his eyes. "You'll keep her safe?"

Jacob's mouth worked, warring triumph and reluctance to ever address Edward with any sort of courtesy. But Jacob had always been more willing to be gracious when things were going his way. "Yeah," he said gruffly. "Yeah. She'll be fine."

Bella could read him so well.

And Edward—Bella knew down to her bones that he loved her, knew it was more than she could possibly comprehend, but there was still an element of uncertainty when it came to him. Confusion as to how he possibly could, when he was so beautiful and she was so plain. And Bella was tired of constantly measuring herself up against him, and failing, and feeling the knowledge eat away at her soul.

She just didn't want him to leave like this, with Seth blaming her, with this terrible, grinding feeling of guilt.

"It's your fault," she said, her voice breaking, and felt the weight of Jacob's disbelieving stare on her. But her eyes were glued on Edward. "If you just would have changed me—it's the only way we could have been together, and you wouldn't listen!"

Edward bowed his head as if he did feel guilty, and it weighed on him. "I know that," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I know it's my fault. I'm so sorry."

Bella felt better then, with the comfortable sound of his apologies.

And maybe guilt was his safety net, because he finally seemed to find it in him to approach her. Bella blinked and he was there, pale and gleaming in the gray morning light.

He took her face in his hands, careful as if she was a bird he did not want to frighten away, and kissed her mouth once, very softly. Bella clung to him and felt safe, an illusion only shattered when Jacob made a sound of impatience from behind her.

Seth, whose apparent shift in alliance was both baffling and complete, growled.

"Seth," Edward said sharply, "stop, please. It's all right." But he was still holding onto Bella's hand, fingers white around her wrist as if he would never let it go.

She sensed Jacob's growing edginess behind her and wondered if Edward was not so good as he'd always seemed. Maybe she would be witness to a fight between them after all.

But in this aspect, Edward had never surprised her, and he was unchanging.

After another long moment he finally closed his eyes, bowed his gleaming copper head to her hand and kissed the back of it, just once. Like a gentleman bidding his lady farewell, except that wouldn't have been laced with a desperation that made Bella sick.

"I love you. I always will," he said, his voice stilted and at the same time sincere as only he could be. "I hope you're very happy."

He gently swiped at Seth's fur and they both turned away again, and this time Bella couldn't bring herself to ask them to stay.

The war was beginning, life careening onwards, despite the fact that she felt frozen in time. Bella stared at their retreating figures, pale sunlight catching and refracting off his skin and his hair, and knew the hollow pit of loss in her stomach would never be filled.

Jacob's warm arms snaked around her neck, his touch light and almost careless in its surety. She just couldn't seem to draw comfort from it.

"Just you and me now," he said, voice rough, pressing his lips to the spot below her ear in a way that just moments ago had brought her pleasure but could no longer overcome the pain.

Bella shuddered and twisted in his grasp to bury her face in his chest, closing her eyes and praying for darkness to swallow up the sight of Edward, shattered and trying to hide it, staring at Bella as Bella was breaking his heart.

_Reviews are always appreciated._


	2. Chapter 2

_Yes, guys, I'm back on this site, and to those who've stuck with me thank you so much for your patience. I promise there won't be a wait that long again. Enjoy!_

**Chapter Two**

Seth meant well, he really did, but his constant solicitations weren't helping in Edward's attempt to keep his mind a perfect blank.

Walking required minimal thought so he was mostly going on autopilot, which was the only reason that when Seth bumped against his side, Edward lost his footing and almost pitched headfirst into a tree. He was distracted. That was all.

Still, the tree provided a comforting presence, so Edward clutched tight to a branch for a moment, fingers sinking into the brown bark, bowed his head and pretended that he couldn't see anybody and therefore they couldn't see him.

The illusion broke when Seth nudged at his hip with a whine._ Edward, you okay?_

"I'm fine," Edward said in as definite a tone as he could manage, but Seth wasn't fooled.

_Are you sure? Maybe you shouldn't be fighting, man, maybe you should sit it out—_

Edward shook his head and pushed himself onward despite the hollow feeling in his legs. "I'm fine," he repeated, and if he said it enough then maybe it would start to be true.

She was doing the right thing for herself, and that was all that should've mattered to him. It didn't matter how he felt: Bella deserved to be happy, and so did Jacob Black.

He owed it to them now to make sure their happiness took as peaceful a form as possible, and step one was taking care of the newborn army.

There was a small inkling of relief in that, as well. Edward had never felt comfortable abandoning his family to fight on their own.

Seth took a moment to regress into his pack-mind, checking in on them as he'd been doing periodically. Trying not to actively listen in, Edward looked around.

In the woods the light was dim and green, and in the air there was mostly just the smell of faded sun and snow and time. Edward breathed it in and wished that he could stay there for just a little bit longer.

Edward realized he was still holding onto the ring, turning it over like a talisman in his hand, and he promptly stowed it in his pocket while it still retained warmth from her skin.

Seth shook himself off like he was stepping from water as he left his pack mates' minds, deliberately laying out the image he'd gotten for Edward to see.

There was none of the sense of tension that must have permeated the air in Seth's thoughts, just pictures laced with fondness and concern; Carlisle with a look of determined acceptance on his face, Alice and Jasper whispering so quietly that the wolves could not hear, and a little ways away Paul and Jared play-fighting in the melted snow. Edward wondered dully why Seth was showing him these things that he already knew.

His silent question was answered when Seth glanced over at him with an air of off-handed curiosity.

_I was just wondering why you told her that it was going badly_, said Seth. _We both knew it hadn't even begun._

Edward listened to the brief sounds his heavy paws made against the forest ground.

He said, "I thought she might be less likely to object to us both leaving. If she thought—"

When the truth was that he hadn't known what to say, his usually glib tongue just failing him at the sight of Bella holding Jacob like she'd used to hold him, and the best he'd been able to come up with was a clumsy segue into the fact that he had to go.

His fight, his fault, and it was only fair that he take part in it as well. And now Edward was feeling bruised and tired by Bella's words and the weight of the ring in his jean pocket, but he'd have to be strong enough to just shove that all aside.

It was time to clean up the mess that he had made.

Seth, as if sensing his thoughts, wordlessly nuzzled his hand. Edward tensed so as not to pull away. Seth was just trying to be friendly. And besides, the warmth felt nice, the living presence of somebody voluntarily by his side. It was—comforting.

The gleam of sunlight off skin and chattering voices heralded his family's presence before anything else, and it hurt, their brightness, because he knew that he would be dimming it. Alice at least would be upset by the news.

They broke through the wet green trees into open air sooner than he would have expected, the large expanse of snow before them broken by two distinct groups. The wolves were roving and restless but his family was still, ice-locked in concentration. Edward thought that maybe they wouldn't notice he was there.

_Good luck_, Seth thought, and Edward had almost forgotten his presence. He casually reached up and ruffled Seth's fur, reminding himself that here was one more person he could not allow to get hurt.

Seth trotted off to join his pack with unconcealed excitement. He was greeted with an immediate spurt of mental chatter that made Edward's head pound, like eyes kept in darkness for too long then exposed to the bright blinding light.

He bit down on his lip and turned to his family, whose thoughts alerted him to the fact that they were watching him expectantly, and well, Edward thought, so much for that.

"Is there a problem, son?" Carlisle asked finally, eyes gleaming gold in the pale sunlight.

Rosalie looked suspicious, which wasn't all that strange a look on her. _Wonder why the little princess isn't attached to his hip._

"No problem," Edward said as casually as he could manage. He wanted to allay their growing suspicions, because he was having trouble hiding the expression on his face, but he didn't—he didn't think he could. It was like he'd forgotten how to act.

"No problem," Esme repeated, crossing pale forearms over her light jacket with a distinct air of suspicion. "Then why are you here?"

"Yeah," Rosalie added sourly. "Last I checked the plan was for you to stay up the mountain with your precious girlfriend. Where's the mutt?" Rosalie had, whether deliberately or not, always had a knack for getting to the quick of things.

Edward swallowed back the soreness in his throat. "Jacob and I have switched places."

Emmett's mouth fell open with an audible pop, a vampire-perfect grin spreading across his face. "You're kidding. Bella let you fight down here? How the hell'd you manage that?"

"Like I said," Edward gritted out, turning away so he wouldn't have to see the looks as they understood. "Jacob and I have switched places."

There was a moment of quiet, broken only by the whisper of snow settling gently on the ground, the faint sizzle as it began to melt beneath the sun's white rays. He felt them, but he couldn't feel their warmth. Edward very deliberately didn't turn around.

"That would explain the wolves," Rosalie said eventually, nodding toward where the pack was stationed just beyond a grove of trees. Their eyes gleamed yellow in the green shadow of the leaves, and a few of them seemed to be shooting him covertly guilty looks. The rest just looked the canine version of smug. Fantastic.

Jasper drummed his fingers against his jean-clad thigh, impatient and making it clear. "Edward, will this interfere with your concentration during the fight? Because really, I don't want to risk—"

"I'm fine, Jasper," Edward snapped, wishing more than anything that they would all just leave him alone. He could do this, he told himself. If there was one thing that he knew he was good for, it was loving Bella Swan, and if what she wanted was for him to leave her in peace—

—then he would do that, and be happy for her. She would have a life now, do things the right way; she would never feel the unimaginable, unendurable pain of burning alive.

He wanted to give her a present now, to show he was okay with it, the one thing he'd wanted for her more than anything but never been able to attain. Safety.

He spared a brief thought to Victoria, but there was a reason he'd insisted on going down to the fight himself and it wasn't the one he'd laid out. And it was actually _true_ that in the case of Victoria's single-minded obsession, the people close to Edward were the ones at risk.

Bella had already absented herself from the scene, and Victoria liked things planned out well in advance. This was exactly the sort of change that would leave her floundering and unable to act.

"Fine," said Jasper distractedly, looking them all over with the unsettling air of somebody checking items off a list. "Hair, Rosalie. Carlisle, are you insane, either zip up your jacket or leave it off. No loose flaps of clothing. Edward, I know you didn't hunt with the rest of us, but tell me it wasn't too long ago."

Emmett was staring broodingly at the ground, bare brown with a patchwork of snow.

"I never liked her," he finally announced. "She wasn't even hot. You're better off without her, bro."

Edward hadn't expected him to be especially bothered, but then he'd forgotten just how seriously Emmett took his role as protector of the group.

"She isn't dead, Emmett," Rosalie said softly, face warm and thoughtful as she tied her hair back. "Small favors."

But she was still angry and the others were no better, and Edward was growing concerned. Bella loved his family: he knew that. He didn't want her to lose them over this.

And though he mostly just wanted them to drop it he was going to say something, just to make sure they would still be there for her, but just then Alice froze.

"They'll be coming within the next three minutes," she said softly, voice ringing clear across the snowy field. "Everybody get ready."

Edward wrapped his arms tightly around himself, shirt rough against his skin, and didn't care how defensive the position made him look. He hadn't wanted to abandon his family, but he hated the thought of destroying sentient creatures, hearing their minds wink out of his and leave a blank spot in their place. It made his stomach turn.

And then there was Bella, alone with Jacob unphased and out of contact up on the mountaintop with only him for protection if something did happen and God, _God_, if he'd had a heartbeat it would have been pounding. It was his worst nightmare, leaving her almost defenseless.

But this was what she wanted. That had to be what mattered most.

* * *

When the newborns came they came like a wave, dressed all in black as if choreographed so that it stood out stark against the snow and their glittering limbs.

Edward felt secondhand the excitement that Emmett and Jasper and the wolves were feeling, and he wondered what was so wrong with him that he wasn't feeling it himself.

It wasn't—he wasn't _weak_. It was just that this was a terrible thing they were going to do, destroying all of this life. He couldn't bring himself to enjoy it.

The first one made the choice for him, rushing at Esme with its pale face set, so intent on its goal that it was simple to yank back into Emmett's waiting arms. Edward turned to the next one and used a dark-clad shoulder as a hinge, spinning the newborn right into his grasp.

A woman, and from the looks of it she'd been beautiful as a human, blond hair bright against the collar of her shirt. She was dizzy and barely aware of Edward's grip, just anger and sheer screaming thirst.

Edward listened to the gleeful way Jasper was dispatching his prey and forced himself to finish the job.

They were too new to be clever and they hadn't been well-trained, just a disorganized mess of fury and constant thirst, and it was strange how these numbers could have been deadly but in fact they were pretty far off the mark.

This was an army whose creator had been ruined by grief.

It was easier after a while, like driving for hours until highway hypnosis set in, the killing moves turned automatic until he no longer had to give them any thought. Edward was selfishly grateful for that.

Things cleared when Edward realized that the influx of newborns had slowed, and he glanced around to see two Quileutes circling a vampire that moved too quickly for their eyes, so that they were left tracking the flashes of light it left behind.

Edward darted over to help, tugged Paul out of the way as the newborn lunged and managed to pin it to the ground. He made the mistake of looking up for a bare moment to check that the wolves were all right, and the newborn instinctively flipped them, leaving him trapped.

It was so heavy that it gave the illusion of heat, despite the cold of its skin and the snow.

He heard a moment of hesitation from the wolf minds closest to him, and then hot breath was on his neck and the wolves were pulling it away.

Edward twisted to his feet and was on it in the same instant. The newborn was a mountain of ice and snow-caked clothes, as tall as the wolves in human form. He tripped it up and sent them both crashing to the ground again, angling his body so he came out on top, and pulled away with its head in his hands.

He left the corpse for Sam and Paul, who eagerly leapt upon it once he backed away. Edward had half expected them not to wait until he was clear: he wasn't sure if he was disappointed or not.

But—loyalty, he thought he'd sensed, somewhere in the recesses of their minds. At least a growing unwillingness to watch a Cullen be hurt. That had to be a good thing, at least a little safer for them all.

A sudden silence and change in the air drew his head up, and Edward realized that it had been the last of them, and the sudden whirlwind of violence was at an end. In its aftermath they were left almost breathless, thrumming with adrenaline that suddenly had no place to go.

And then one wolf howled his triumph and another joined in, and then another, and another, until the place rang with it, and then Sam shut them up. The Cullens just looked at each other and exchanged secret smiles in pairs, like they were exchanging gifts.

Edward felt as if he should join in on the enthusiasm, and he was painfully grateful that nobody had been hurt, but really he just wanted to go off on his own for a bit and go privately to pieces.

The wolves finally retreated back behind the trees, and Edward saw piles of white glistening flesh scattered like driftwood on the gray frozen ground. It almost made it worse that they hadn't been so difficult to destroy: this was what Victoria had made for him, this unbelievable waste of life.

Emmett was examining the ugly scene with a despondence entirely unrelated to Edward's. "Don't tell me that was all."

"That wasn't enough for you?" Rosalie snapped, somehow still lovely and untouched, gleaming golden like a candle through the haze of debris. "Edward, you owe me big time. I'm going to stink for weeks."

"Yeah, sorry, " said Edward distractedly, and wondered why he didn't feel more settled. It was just—there was still so much movement, disturbed snow like settling dust swirling dizzily and a fine tension in the air. He couldn't quite think of anything as _done_.

Alice chose that moment to lope over to him with a casual, easy grace.

"Edward," she said, voice soft and uncertain, "I don't mean to pry, but Bella—aren't you worried that Victoria will—"

Edward looked at Alice, dark hair outlined strangely against the cast-iron sky, who'd been so quiet when he'd told them of Bella's change of heart only because she was dealing with the loss of her first and only friend.

"It's taken care of," he said, when what he really wanted to say was that he was sorry for messing it all up. "Victoria won't bother with her now."

Not when she'd been within earshot as he'd made it painfully clear that his life and Bella's would no longer intersect.

Edward had hated that just a bit more, hated that by necessity their final separation had been something of an act, put on and played out carefully so that Victoria would have no doubt.

Only Bella's safety came first and it always had, and it wasn't like he'd made her do anything she didn't want to. It had been her choice, and for that he was glad.

Alice looked a little taken aback, but her eyes were warm and trusting in a way that hurt his chest. "Okay. You can explain later."

Just like that, like his decisions were infallible, and what if he'd gotten one of them killed? Would she be so understanding then?

The wolves emerged around the trees looking downright weird in tank tops and shorts against a backdrop of snow and steel gray skies. It bothered him in a half-concerned way, seeing bare flesh exposed to the cold mountain air.

"Sam," Carlisle said, managing to push away his surprise that they'd come in human form. "Congratulations on a job well done. I trust that none of your pack needs any medical attention?"

Irritation flashed through Sam's thoughts at the conciliatory tone, but he kept his expression calm. "Yeah, we're good," he said. "No injuries."

Carlisle held out one pale hand and after a moment's pause Sam took it gingerly, though he looked a moment away from wrinkling his nose.

"We do appreciate your pack's assistance in this, Sam." Carlisle's voice was easy and deliberately smooth as silk. "Hopefully this has shown all of us how beneficial an alliance like this might be in the future."

To his credit, Sam appeared only slightly grudging. "Yeah, I mean," he started awkwardly, a little more obvious in his discomfort. "I mean, we aren't fighting against each other. We—that's pretty obvious now."

Carlisle nodded, smile bright as if he'd just made a new friend. Edward wasn't going to tell him that wasn't exactly the case: no need to prove his hopes false.

He tried to edge away, scanning the snowy expanse like he was expecting more monsters when the monsters were gone, and therefore was so shocked by what he saw that it took a moment to register.

A single vampire cut an easy swath through the snow, made into slush by the wolves' heat. Edward spun around, followed the trajectory and saw it aiming straight for Leah, who stood human and vulnerable with her gaze cast to the ground.

His sudden movement attracted people's attention. The vampires looked up and some of the wolves did, too, and they were closer than anyone. But compared to vampires, wolves moved as if through water. They weren't going to make it in time.

Edward didn't have to think.

He launched himself at the newborn and got there a second after it had slammed Leah to the ground. Its hands were deathly pale where they wrapped around her neck, a grip so tight they would've been white-knuckled if there had been any blood to disperse, and Leah was too shocked to even begin to fight.

Edward hooked an arm around the newborn's waist and yanked it up and away, tossing it to the ground with a puff of snow like smoke.

It lay there with a distinctly resentful air for just a moment before clambering to its feet, its new aim revenge.

Edward thought about it, and decided that making sure Leah was entirely out of harm's way was much more important than moving himself. He turned to check on her, alarmed by the distinct wheeze to her breath, knelt and put two fingers to her throat. But the wolves were resilient, and Edward was relieved to feel a steady pulse.

He looked up to find himself staring into the newborn's face, red eyes and all strangely beautiful, because for a moment he could only see what Bella would have become if she had stayed with him. She was safe now, that whole nightmarish future no longer hers.

At least there was that, and Edward looked at the newborn and stayed frozen.

Its thoughts were lost in the maelstrom inside Edward's head, but he saw the promise of relief in its bright red eyes. She'd been unattainable and he'd known that from the first but like a stupid child had been unable to resist, and in the process he'd done so much harm, and it had been for nothing.

Because she had made the right decision, of that Edward was well aware. He wanted to be happy for her, he wanted it so much, and that he couldn't seem to muster up the emotion—

He was worse than he'd ever imagined, because even though he loved her, even though he wanted her happiness above all else and he _knew_ she was making the right choice—it still felt like he was being torn apart by the lack of her, and God, it _hurt_.

Edward had exactly enough time to grab Leah by the shoulder and fling her to the side, and then the newborn was on him.

It was a wild, snarling thing, all crashing teeth and a grip around his shoulders hard as steel, an elbow in his ribs that cracked something and left him gasping. He tried to focus enough to get the upper hand, but there was far too much pressure turning rapidly to pain, and just then cold hands latched around his elbow with brutal precision and twisted hard.

There was the sound and savage pain of breaking bone, and Edward could no longer think about anything other than how badly he wanted to scream.

Dark shapes swam overhead and then coalesced into a black wolf in front of him and more off to the side, and his family whose pale skin blended right into the sky.

Suddenly the newborn had been torn away. It was only then that the pain ratcheted up to unbearable.

The sun glittered off of his skin and the snow, white on white, and the world began to blur. Edward realized he was on the ground: he hadn't even felt himself hit the snow, because the parts of his body that didn't feel like they were on fire were entirely numb.

His vision was going spotted and beginning to fade out, but he saw the black wolf lunge to stand in front of him, growling. Sam was trying to protect Leah, Edward thought hazily. Not him. He was just in the way and should probably move so as not to reap the benefits of somebody's protection when they weren't offering it to him, but his legs might as well have been cut out from under him for all that he could stand.

Edward rolled onto his side, jostling broken bones like lightning beneath his skin. He wanted to scream very badly but there was no air in his lungs, no breath that he could take, and it felt like he was choking.

Somebody was shaking him, hot hands on his shoulders that only made everything hurt more, but the world was already slowing and splintering around him. The cold was seeping in, something living and vital slipping from his grasp, and Edward had the faint sense that it was important he hold on.

He let go anyway, thinking: he'd done his part.

_I'd love to hear your thoughts!_


End file.
